Tag: Maunche

Scroll for Otto Gotlieb’s Order of the Maunche, illumination and calligraphy by Master Ed MacGyver.

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When from the bung the ale dost spring
foam head to meet the sun’s bright ray,
when people glass in hand do sing
and all the morning toast, they say –
What lovelier than the prospect there?
Can earth boast any thing more fair?
To Us it seems an almost heaven
so beauteous to Our lips that sparkling drought is given.

And when Otto Gotlieb, chaste and fair,
noble, and clad in good attire
walks through the throng with Krafthaus beer – right there
then what could We do but to admire?
What else boasts he in his display?
What hast thou beautiful and gay
compared with that supreme delight?
By Frieboug Bächle walk for hours, and drink his gruit bier bright!

Wouldst thou believe Us – come and place
before thee all this fine purvey
then look to the Maunche Order’s space
For which is best and brightest? say:
carmel wort of sweet Sah’tea, fine
Kolsh, braggot, ende de welt, all thine
And say, ‘Choose of thy beauties? Nay.
Rather We would taste of them all, and with good drink Our thirst allay.’

Thus We, Gregor Rex and Kiena Regina, raise a glass and name Otto Gotlieb a Companion of Our Order of the Maunche, at the Great Northeastern War in the Province of Malagentia, ASXLII, on the thirteenth of July on the feast of St. Silas.

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This text was based on a translated German poem by Walther von der Vogelwiede, as the piece was from the same time period as Otto’s persona. Otto says about his own persona that he was “born in 13th century Freiburg to noble merchant parents. Count Egino II has been talking about raising taxes and making changes to our established rights. The people of Freiburg are restless.”

As he is from Friebourg, I tried to include some things about the city – like the Freiburg Bächle – small water-filled runnels which wend through the old city. They are ancient.

I also included specific brews he has made which are German or period, which discuss his art.

When From The Sod The Flow’rets Spring

When from the sod the flow’rets spring,
And smile to meet the sun’s bright ray,
When birds their sweetest carols sing
In all them morning pride of May,
What lovelier than the prospect there?
Can earth boast any thing more fair?
To me it seems an almost heaven,
So beauteous to my eyes that vision bright is given.

But when a lady, chaste and fair,
Noble, and clad in rich attire,
Walks through the throng with gracious air,
As sun that bids the stars retire,–
Then, where are all thy boastings, May?
What hast thou beautiful and gay
Compared with that supreme delight?
We leave thy loveliest flowers, and watch that lady bright.

Wouldst thou believe me,– come and place
Before thee all this pride of May;
Then look but on my lady’s face,
And, which is best and brightest? say:
For me, how soon (if choice were mine)
This would I take, and that resign!
And say, “Though sweet thy beauties, May!
I’d rather forfeit all than lose my lady gay.”

Fine tokens come from this one’s hand,
His graceful talents in demand.
Bursting from within,
Joyful is our din
Lauds begin through the land.

Now gather Maunche Companions here
for Gwillim Kynith, whose career
brings forth attention
and with contention
ascension with much cheer.

Steady his hand paints glass so red
A hundred men have ate his bread,
Delights us to sing
As sounds soft lute string.
Dancers spring at his tread.

Many find his most pleasant brew
Inspires fine tales both old and new
Which he could transcribe.
But dance and imbibe
and ascribe him his due.

There is no greater thing than art
to wound or soothe, its gifts impart.
One who can so ply
May on art rely
to comply from the start.

By his work the worker is praised;
Every craft is wealth, it is phrased
So beyond measure,
Art, precious treasure,
our pleasure is thus raised.

Granted by the the Companions of the Order of the Maunche, writ by the noble hands of Gryffith King of the Mighty East, and Aiketerine glorious Queen, this January the twenty-ninth anno societatis forty-five, at the Marketplace at Birka in the Barony of Stonemarch.

Notes on the piece:

Y gwaith a ganmol y gweithiwr.
(By his work the worker is praised.)

Uh GWAITH uh GAHN-mole uh GWAY-thyur.
(The AI as I in “might”, the O not *quite* as long as in “mole”, the AY as in “way”).

Cyfoeth pob crefft.
(Every craft is wealth.)

kuh-VOYTH pobe KREFT.
(The “kuh” pretty much as in “k’BOOM”, “pobe” as in “robe” but a bit shorter, the “VOYTH” like “voice” with a lisp).

About the style of the poem:
The clogyrnach [clog-ir-nach] is a Welsh quantitative verse form. It contains 32 syllables in a 6-line stanza. The first couplet contains eight syllables in each line; the second, five; the third, three. (The last couplet may be written as a single, 6-syllable line.) The rhyme scheme is aabbba.

Does she know of the content?
And how to bottle and ferment?
She comopunds with a sure intent,
and all sure facts she can present.

Oh She can bottle and ferment!
And measure alcohol percent!

But does this lady document?
That task she’d never circumvent!

Ah! Can she clear the heady brew?
False cloying mung she does subdue!

Well, Does she know the kinds of yeast?
More than good huntsmen know of beast!

She is friend of bard and bee!

She is friend of you and me!

Fill up your cups and you will see!

Shall she join the Maunche’s Order?
It is here writ by recorder!

At this Bardic for King and Queen
In Feburary’s winter mean
On the fifth day, which thus arrived
Anno Sociatitis forty-five.

In Endewearde’s most festive hall
Among her friends, yes, one and all!
At the fine Bardic event,
Which her gifts did help cement.

How we do like that Lady Vey!
Thusly she is a Maunch this day.

As we like our King and Queen-a,
Kind Griffith, fair Aikaterine-a.

So we give it to their hands,
signed by rulers of these lands.

Lady Sylvia du Vey had been, some years ago, threatened with a text in the style of Herr T. Geisel. When she was given her Maunch for brewing, the chance was there to make it exceptionally interesting. The final text is some 340 words, blessings to Mistress Carolyne. The Original was some 550 or so, and was fiercely edited. The scroll was done by Jean and Aneleda via Google Docs, back and forth. It’s an entertaining way to manage. At Court, having been JUST NAMED the Bardic Champions, they read it together for her with great joy, and watched her tears of laughter with as much dignity as possible. It was the best scroll reading *ever* they think.